


No one could reach them, no one but you.

by Rogue1987



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Beach Holidays, Can be read as slash but not intended like that, Cats, Coming Out, Cute Kids, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Epic Friendship, Fun, HIV/AIDS, M/M, Not Beta Read, POV Alternating, Period-Typical Homophobia, Platonic Soulmates, Snippets, Terminal Illnesses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-02-26 12:21:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18716992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rogue1987/pseuds/Rogue1987
Summary: This is a multi-chaptered story that talks about the significant moments in Freddie and Roger's epic friendship.Sad moments, happy ones, funny notes, a variety of tales, really. A closer look into one of my favourite friendships ever.





	1. A hand above the water.

**Author's Note:**

> So, I know I've been absent for a long time. I tried to write but I had massive writers block and just couldn't decide on what I wanted to make. Also, I've been a bit depressed again lately so I decided to channel that into this story. I'm not that bad with emotional stories when I'm down. This will be a number of short stories about Roger and Freddie's epic platonic friendship.  
> This will eventually tackle Freddie's illness and possibly even his passing.  
> But I decided to start here. You can send me requests for things you would like to read in this if you want. So if you would like to read my version on certain events that you like you can send me your ideas.  
> I will definitely send Roger to Munich to get Freddie back btw. That chapter is already writing itself in my mind. 
> 
> This can be read with the Bohemian Rhapsody cast or the original Queen members. I'm basing the first chapter off the film when Mary and Freddie break up. The timeline may not be correct with this one but bear with me. 
> 
> It just felt good to write something again after all this time. I hope you guys will like it.

_London._

 

 

 

 

 

Freddie trembled his way up the familiar driveway, his tears barely dried from the ocean of sadness that had eroded over him that evening. He approached the gate and pressed the bell, fingers quivering uncontrollably. He wasn't ready for this and yet it felt like this was long overdue. Especially after the night he'd had. ''Yes, who is it?'' the sultry voice called out through the intercom. Freddie attempted to speak but something got annoyingly stuck in the back of his throat. ''Hello?''  
''Rog, it's me,''  
''Oh, come on in,'' Roger's gate buzzed and Freddie pressed against the steel, letting himself in the garden. It was long past midnight but he knew that Roger wouldn't be asleep yet, he seldom slept before three.  
And it was a Saturday so there was a fat chance that Freddie interrupted Roger during a steamy orgy with a flock of groupies.

The front door was already open when he approached, a half-naked Roger standing in the doorway freezing his balls off, clad in nothing more than a red kimono-like bathrobe.  
Freddie saw the prominent outline of his bare cock creeping through the fabric. Oh yes, he had _definitely_ disturbed Roger during his Saturday night shag.  
He would pay for that later. But at the moment, his dishevelled and mildly alarming state tore Roger's anger down to a mellow, mostly concerned level. ''Jesus Christ! Look at you. You're a _complete_ train wreck! What the hell happened, Fred?'' Roger inquired, direct as ever as he hauled him inside with an arm draped over his soaked shoulders. It was pouring outside and Freddie had wandered the long distance to Roger's house on foot and would now likely end up in the hospital with pneumonia. Why couldn't anything go right in his sorry excuse for a personal life? He was so successful as a singer but a flipping _disaster_ when it came to maintaining personal relationships.

He let Roger lead him to his living room where he gave him one of the tightest hugs he'd ever given Freddie. It felt nice and warm, the familiar cologne made Freddie feel like home. ''We need to get you into some dry clothes before Brian murders me for letting you catch a cold, you know. I'm going to get some sweats for you okay? Just sit down, I'll be back in a sec,'' Roger told him.

Freddie barely noticed him stepping away and reluctantly hovered near Roger's black leather sofa.  
He shouldn't sit down, he'd drench the damn thing and likely ruin it. Two pretty lasses snuck down the stairs, waved at Freddie and left so quickly that he wondered if they'd even been there in the first place. Then again, this was Roger Taylor's designated porn palace so they couldn't have been a mirage.

When Roger came back ( with actual trousers on, thankfully ) he tutted harshly at him for not sitting his tired arse down. ''I told you to bloody  _sit_ didn't I?''  
''I don't want to ruin your sofa along with your evening. Nice looking lasses, Rog. I hope you'll forgive me for the intrusion,''  
''Don't be daft you fucking muppet,'' Roger snorted, slapping the back of Freddie's head just gently enough to still be considered playful. He handed Freddie the dry clothes and a white, fluffy towel that smelled like flowers. ''Here you go,''  
''Thanks darling,'' Freddie tried to smile but failed horrendously. He sighed, dried himself off and changed into his fresh clothes right then and there.  
It was nothing Roger hadn't seen before due to their touring and he barely batted an eye when Freddie tore off his underwear and put on one of Roger's. They borrowed each other's outfits all the time, this was nothing new really. Besides, Roger had excellent taste and was very fashionable for a straight man.

''Drink?'' Roger quipped flippantly. A nearly burnt fag was dangling on his lips. ''Yeah or ten. Oh and make it strong please,''  
Roger smirked and disappeared into the kitchen, when he returned with two glasses of Scotch in his hands there was already a new cigarette tucked between his lips. "I'm all out of Vodka, mate, sorry. I'm afraid this will have to do,''  
''It's fine _Blondie_ , at this moment booze is better than no booze,''

Roger carried Freddie's clothes upstairs, telling him that he'd wash them for him. Well, have his housekeeper clean them for him, seeing how Roger could hardly do dishes.  
Freddie could only hope that his jacket hadn't been permanently ruined. It wasn't looking good but Roger assured him he knew an excellent dry cleaner. He sat down on the sofa besides Freddie and chuckled amicably. ''Remember when I accidentally sold it to that lady?''  
Freddie _loved_ Roger for trying to make him laugh and damn the little bugger for always succeeding, even now that he was feeling like the lousiest shit on the planet. Despite that and against all rational odds, Freddie laughed.  
Because this was Roger and he couldn't help it if Roger laughed he did too. It was the proverbial catalyst that turned into fond memories of the two of them ripping people off at the market with their shabby stall. Those were some of the best times of Freddie's life and never seized to make him smile like a giddy teenager. But tonight he felt that he didn't deserve to ever feel better.  
He was in an awful masochistic mood and wanted to flock himself even more for hurting her. Still, he said, ''Only too well, Rog,''

Roger conveyed him sharply, narrowing his haughty blues at him before scooting in a bit closer and wrapping his arm around Freddie, collecting him to his side. ''What's going on, Fred? Hmm? Why are you so upset?''  
Freddie inhaled deep, he wasn't ready for this. He needed a time out. He slyly stole the fag from Roger's mouth, not bothered to light his own and took a few puffs before offering it back to him but Roger declined. ''Nah mate, that's all yours now. I'll light a new one,''  
''Bri's right, darling. You're going to ruin your much-needed lung capacity if you keep going like that. You smoke even more than I do,''  
''Oh fuck off everyone loves my luscious smokey voice. Therefore, if I want to maintain it I have to keep feeding it more fags. Also, we're not here to discuss my sinful habits, are we? If I want a lecture, I'll give the bloody _professor_ a ring. Stop deflecting and tell me why you're here,''  
''Mary and I split up,''  
''Oh, _ooooh_ ,'' Roger blurted out, looking quite speechless and immensely stunned for a change. Ordinarily, Freddie would be pleased to realize that he was still able to surprise Roger but at the moment all he felt was emptiness and heartbreaking amounts of misery.

Roger leaned over his coffee table and handed Freddie his glass. ''Drink,'' he ordered. Freddie did. Not that it made him feel any better. Only worse, if that was even possible. When he finished his glass Roger shoved his own into his face and Freddie drank that too. The alcohol was rushing to his aid, trying to dull his senses. It was somewhat effective but he didn't feel any lighter.  
On the contrary, he felt like he was steadily sinking to the bottom of the sea and no one was around to throw him a lifeline. But that was a blatant lie, Roger was right here.  
Extending him a helping hand as always, offering him a shoulder to wallow on.

Freddie just had to find the nerve to take it and tell him the actual reason as to why Mary left him. He felt terribly worried though, what if Roger couldn't ever treat him the same? What if everything would change from now on?  
Would Roger start feeling uncomfortable around him if he knew the truth? Would Brian and Deaky start avoiding him out of sheer embarrassment? Freddie couldn't bear the thought. It was exactly why he had postponed telling them for so long. He didn't want everything to turn to shit. He would hate to stuff up their infamous dynamic. No, he wasn't ready to tell the others. For now, Roger would suffice. If he ever found the nerve to actually utter the bloody words out loud.

He was trembling again, the anxiety gripping him by the neck and suffocating him slowly. ''Calm down. Fred, whatever happened, this is me. You can tell me anything, you know,'' Roger's soothing voice came through the mist, leading him back to the light. Guiding him along. His hand was stroking over his lower back and the other was preoccupied with brushing through Freddie's long hair. ''It's going to be okay, I'm here. You're not alone. You'll never be alone,''  
And that did it. Being alone forever was Freddie's greatest fear.  
Roger muttering insistingly that he wouldn't end up like that send him over the edge. He burst out into tears before he could contain them. The sorrow was resonating inside his chest, eating away at him like cancer. A formidable foe. One that Freddie couldn't tackle on his own.  
He needed help. Needed to let Roger in a bit. Even if it positively terrified him. Unfortunately, Freddie was feeling awfully despondent tonight. Guarded. Unwilling to spill his best-kept secret to Roger, who he trusted more than anyone else on the planet.

When his eyes had finally stopped leaking, Roger waited for him to finally tell him the truth. He was looking nearly regal tonight. A strange paradox considering Freddie had just interrupted a threesome with two cheap looking lasses and yet there was always something nearly king-like about Roger.  
Perhaps it was his chiselled facial features or his infinite beauty. Freddie wasn't sure, but the fact remained that Roger looked like a Disney prince even if he was acting slutty and clad in an ugly kimono. Which was probably the sole reason for his endless string of girlfriends. The recipe to his success as an insatiable playboy wasn't just his rugged good looks though, it was his massive heart that came along with it. There was enough room in it for everyone but if you were foolish enough to betray him or fuck him over he would turn incredibly cold and unforgiving. But as long as you stayed loyal and made him feel loved and worthy there was nothing he wouldn't do for you. The fact remained that he was actually a really kind, decent man underneath all that glamour, charm and feigned bravado. 

''I'm scared, Rog,''  
''I know, but you don't have to be, not with me. You can tell me,''  
''Mary...said I didn't love her anymore,''  
''Bollocks, she did _not_ say that. Don't bloody lie to me,''  
Fucking hell, Freddie had known Roger for nearly six years but still occasionally forgot how exceedingly clever he actually was. His looks were incredibly deceiving. He was definitely not a dumb blond and was not to be underestimated. Even Brian, with all of his scientific knowledge and towering IQ often had a hard time keeping up with Roger's intellect.  

''I told her...well,'' Freddie exhaled so loudly and heavily that Roger returned to the kitchen once again to fetch him another drink. Bless that man. He made him drink a big glass of water before handing him the third glass of Scotch. Freddie shouldn't accept it, his head was already spinning but he wasn't going anywhere tonight anyway. He would crash in one of Roger's guest bedrooms at the end of the night as he had done countless times. 

He mustered all of his courage, spurred on by the liquor and mumbled, ''I told her that I thought I was...bisexual,''  
Roger barely blinked at the revelation. He only nodded and waited for him to continue. ''Then she told me that I was gay. Me! Can you believe that?''

Roger chewed on his lower lip, his expression suddenly quite guarded. ''Um do you want an actual answer here or was it a rhetorical question?''  
Freddie's heartbeat started pounding behind his ears. His hands were suddenly extremely sweaty. ''Why? Do you-would you believe I was gay if someone said it?''  
''Don't play those fucking mind games with me, Fred. They don't work on me. Just tell me if you want me to answer that question or not?''  
Freddie hesitated, feeling awfully backed into a corner by Roger's shrewdness and observant nature. ''Fine, answer the bloody question then, if that makes you happy,''  
''Nope, not falling for that one,''  
''You're being fucking _impossible_ right now,''  
''Me? That's rubbish! You're being a deviant little shit. Just tell me what's troubling you. Stop beating around the bush!''

''I CAN'T TELL YOU!!!'' Freddie shouted, balling his fists at his sides. Normal people would be spooked by his sudden outburst but Roger was used to worse and hardly blinked, looking persistently and annoyingly stoic. The only thing that was perpetually louder than Roger was his drum-kit so he didn't startle easily. ''Why not?''  
''Because I don't want you to start treating me differently if I do,''  
''Fred, you still don't get it do you? You don't _have_ to tell me. I already _know_ you only like men,''

Now it was Freddie's turn to be at a loss for words for once. Roger knew? How the fuck had he known? Did everyone know? Oh god, did Deaky know he was gay? Their young bass player really looked up to Freddie and he felt his cheeks heat up at the suggestion. The very thought of him knowing the truth sickened Freddie to his stomach, making him queasy.

And what about Brian? Well, mister smarty pants probably knew, if Roger knew than so did Brian. Brian was everyone's rock, a safe haven to turn to when you had a shitty day. Freddie couldn't afford to lose Brian. He relied on him much more than he would ever admit out loud. Oh fuck, did all their fans know too? If so, why were women still approaching him on a daily basis? It was too much to digest. Panic flared up in his chest again.

''How long have you known?'' he heard himself ask. Not certain if he truly wanted to hear the answer.  
''Since the day we met,''  
If Freddie had been standing he would have tumbled down due to that startling revelation. ''THAT LONG?''  
Roger took his quivering hands into his own warm, steady ones. ''Well, don't take this the wrong way but you're not exactly subtle about it mate. Clearly, you're under the impression that you are but you're really not. The glittering Leotards, the ballet, the flashy fashion, the way you dance and all that. I knew straight away but I could tell you didn't want to talk about it so I never pushed you. It doesn't matter to me, Fred. You're my best mate and nothing can ever change that. You won't lose me because you're gay,''

Freddie felt a heated tear roll over his cheek. He hardly dared to believe Roger and yet he did. Roger wouldn't lie to him. He was one of the few people on the entire planet that always told him the truth, warts and all. The idea that he'd known about his sexuality all along staggered Freddie and yet on some level, it didn't.

Roger knew him better than anyone else in the world. He had keen eyes that saw right through him and burst through his armour with a lance. To Freddie, he symbolized a safe place to hide when he felt distraught, a companion to make him smile. Roger was his partner in crime. They had been firmly joined to the hip ever since they met. How could Roger not know? Freddie felt a fool for underestimating him once again.    
A part of him suddenly felt ashamed that he hadn't trusted Roger with this secret years ago. He should have known that he would respond like that. That he would be absolutely fine with it.

But the reality was that they were living in a homophobic time where being openly gay could get you severely beaten up in the streets, or worse.  
It wasn't safe to be out. Freddie had tried to protect himself by masquerading who he truly was. He lived with Mary not only because he loved her but also to keep up a certain image and appearance. He saw her as a very close friend and he was very fond of her, but in the end, he needed to let her go. She deserved someone who could give her the love he wouldn't be able to offer.  
It wasn't fair to keep her all to himself, not when he was attracted to men instead of her. And so he had set her free.  
He looked up into Roger's eyes and smiled dejectedly. ''Thank you, darling. Does everyone know? Do Bri and Deaky?''  
Roger shrugged callously. ''Honestly, I don't know. We never talk about it. I figure Brian probably knows, yes. He's far too observant for his own good, you know. But John? I haven't got a clue. It's not like we were gossiping behind your back like a bunch of snidey old women when you weren't around,''

How had Roger known that Freddie had been worried about precisely that just a second ago? He should have known they wouldn't do that, but the fear of being exposed made him think irrational, silly things that were quite offensive to his best friends.  
''They won't care either, Fred,'' Roger tried to reassure him.  
''John might, considering his religious background and Veronica-''  
''Don't be ridiculous you tosser. He'll be fine with it. We all are. We all love you, Fred. Nothing can ever change that so stop implying that things might change. They won't. I've known since the beginning of our relationship and have I ever treated you differently? Did I ever not undress in front of you or anything like that?''  
''No,''  
''Exactly. So stop insulting us, like it or not you're sort of stuck with us, mate. Until the end,''  
Freddie pulled his favourite drummer into a massive hug, snuggling his face against his chest. ''I love you, Rog. You're the best,''  
''I know, I'm absolutely fabulous,''  
''You sure are,''  
''Will you tell the others?''  
''Perhaps, although if you're right, there's nothing to tell that they don't already know,''  
''I can come with you if that makes you feel better,''  
Freddie smiled heartedly and kissed Roger's cheek. ''No, I can handle it on my own, but thank you for offering,''

''And what about your parents?''  
''Are you joking? They would disown me in a heartbeat. Nah, I better keep it to myself,''  
''Yeah, good point,'' Roger agreed wisely. When he caught Freddie's yawn he sniggered. ''Why don't we get you into bed huh? You look positively knackered,''  
''I feel fucking knackered. It was really hard to watch her leave, she already packed her bags and went to stay with a friend,''  
''I'm sorry,''  
Freddie shoed the pity away, he felt like he had no right to it. Not tonight. ''Don't be, she deserves to find someone who can give her what I can't. And she will. And I'm going to die alone, surrounded by a thousand cats,''  
Roger's eyes were gleaming in the dim evening light, there was a profound sadness residing in them that didn't suit him one bit. He rose to his feet and hauled Freddie off the sofa. ''C'me on you old fruitcake, it's time for bed,''  
If anyone else called him a _fruitcake_ Freddie would have lost his shit, but this was Roger's sly attempt to diffuse the tension and it didn't shock him to learn that it was working. He felt a tiny smirk go over his lips.

He dragged Freddie into his guest bedroom and laid him down on the bed. ''Drink,'' he told him once again, forcing him to drink two large glasses of water to avoid a raging hangover. And then he tugged him in and pecked his forehead, just like his mum used to do when he was very little.  
Placing the duvet around him tightly so that he was feeling rather snug.  
And yet he was incredibly lonely and dreading to be left alone. He didn't want Roger to go to his own bed. He feared his heart might shatter if he had to watch him walk away from him. He couldn't bear it tonight. ''Please stay,''  
To his credit, Roger didn't argue against it. ''All right, be back in a bit. I have to brush my teeth and use the loo,''

In his absence, Freddie marvelled over the infinite levels of generosity that Roger was willing to extend to him. Not many straight men would climb into a bed with their best friend who had just openly admitted to being gay. Most would be worried or uncomfortable that something might happen, that Freddie would make a pass at them, but not Roger. He treated Freddie as if nothing had ever changed between them. He truly was a unique friend. One of a kind. He wouldn't be able to get rid of Roger even if he wanted to. Freddie didn't know what he had done to deserve him. He wasn't merely the best bloody drummer he'd ever seen but also the best friend anyone could wish for.

Roger returned a few minutes later with his favourite pillow ( he even brought that bloody thing with him on their tours ) and placed the duvet back so that he could sneak under the covers. He wore a pair of navy sweats and socks. It was a cold night. He curled up besides Freddie and conveyed him cautiously with his investigative eyes. ''Are you okay?''  
''No, but don't worry, I will be. I'll bounce back, it's what I do best-right?''  
''Yeah I know. I'm still worried about you though,''  
''And I love you for that. But right now I need you to shut your pretty mouth and let me sleep,''

When he saw Roger frown suspiciously he chuckled. ''Don't worry love, blonds aren't really my taste,''  
Roger smacked his arm playfully. ''Oi! Are you implying that I'm not pretty enough for you? I'm wounded, mate,''  
''Don't be horrid, you're _exceedingly_ beautiful my darling. But even if you were gay as a daffodil I still wouldn't fuck you. There are some lines that not even I am willing to cross. So don't look so bloody troubled. I won't make a move on you in my sleep, I promise,''  
''Well that's good to know, I guess. And also a tad offensive. I'm an excellent lay I'll have you know and you'd be lucky to have me,''  
''As if I don't know that you're a good fuck and somewhat of a sex god? Need I remind you we lived together for a long time? The walls weren't very thick I'll have you know?''  
''Well not as thick as you apparently are no, I agree with you there,''  
''Oh piss off, you _heinous_ bitch,''  
Roger cackled loudly, pulling Freddie into a fierce embrace, sniggering in his ear, ''Love you too, Freddie,''  
Roger turned away from him, laying on his back with his arms folded under his head and Freddie looked at him for a moment. ''Hey Blondie?''  
''What?''  
''Thank you, for everything,''  
Roger shifted back to his side and stroked a lock of hair behind Freddie's ear, their eyes meeting in the dark. ''Hmm you don't have to say that, not to me. Not ever. And you're _not_ going to die alone, Fred. No matter what happens, I'll be with you,''

It sounded like an ominous promise. And Freddie believed him. He fell asleep with Roger's arm safely curled around his waist and his face tucked against the back of his neck.

 

 

 

 

 

_TBC......_


	2. An angel reaching for the sky.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freddie has been distant toward Roger for a while now and Roger decides to confront him with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long guys. Life tends to get in the way. 
> 
>  
> 
> I hope you like it. Let me know.  
> This one is from Roger's POV.
> 
> I hope I'm portraying John right, he's always a bit hard for me to write.

_Roger._

 

 

 

It had been exactly four weeks since the day when Freddie had told him that he was gay when Roger finally decided that he'd had enough.  
Freddie had been tiptoeing around him as if he had some infectious decease and was clearly avoiding Roger. He even flinched away from him whenever he touched him. It was when Roger accidentally landed on Freddie's lap during an after party when it had happened.  
Freddie froze under his weight, looking aghast and mildly alarmed. He quickly shoved Roger off, resulting in accidentally dumping him unceremoniously onto the highly uncomfortable floor. Roger was getting really aggravated now and decided to set Freddie straight, ironically. Brian threw them a pensive glance but decided not to intervene for once in his damn life.

''Come with me,'' Roger bristled, ground his teeth together as he snatched Freddie's wrist and dragged him to the balcony. He slid the glass door open, shoved Freddie into the crisp evening breeze and slammed the door behind them. He knew he had too much to drink and that he probably shouldn't do this in his current state but he was too riled up to stop. ''Okay, that's enough, Fred,''  
Freddie feigned an innocent, confused gaze as if he didn't know what this was about. ''What are you on about Rog? You sound positively deluded!''  
''You're avoiding me like the fucking plague and I've had it up to here with that,''  
Freddie chuckled. ''How can I _possibly_ avoid you, darling? We're literally constantly in each other's space!''  
''Which makes it even more impressive that you're actually _succeeding_ in it,''  
''I haven't got a clue what you're talking about, love,''  
Roger lit a fag and was so fed up that he nearly bit it in half. ''Oh fuck off! Do you want me to start throwing things?!''  
''Well, out here there's not much to throw, other than me, so no I'd rather not,''  
Roger snorted humorlessly. ''As if I'd ever do that,''

Freddie's dark eyes seemed to light up in the darkness like a couple of stars. Or perhaps Roger was too deep into his Gin-Tonic haze that he had literally started to hallucinate. ''Why are you so upset, Rog?''  
''Ever since you told me about being gay you've been shying away from me, distancing yourself from me of all people! You won't let me touch you, I can't sit on your lap anymore without you shoving me off. I don't understand why you're suddenly so-uptight and awkward around me. I just miss my best mate,''  
Freddie extended his hand and laid it onto Roger's shoulder, but only for a shard of a second before retreating it again. ''I'm right here, Blondie,''  
''Yeah, but you see? You're _not_. You can't even lay your hand on my fucking arm for more than a second. Stop treating me like this! I fucking hate it,''  
''How am I treating you then?''

Roger sighed, his anger gradually dwindling down when he saw just how distraught Freddie was. He took a deep breath and had to restrain himself from collecting Freddie close and wrapping his arms around him. He wasn't ready for that, not yet. ''As if I care about you being gay. Like I can't bear it if you touch me because I'm straight and you're not. Clearly, you've forgotten that I always knew you were gay, ever since day one of our friendship.  
And that has never stopped me from climbing onto your lap or into your arms before has it? I don't appreciate being shunned like this over a piece of information that I already obtained ages ago.  
It feels like you're punishing me and whacking me over the head with it. I _hate_ that you cringe away from me. I need you to be my best mate again and not treat me like a leper. To give me a hug when I need it, I'm only human too you know?''

Freddie took ahold of his hand. Well, it was something, Roger mused, trying his hardest to see it as a positive step forward. And yet even the mildest touch of the stone-cold hand felt distant, in a strange way. ''I'm not doing it on purpose, darling. I swear. It just happens.  
I mean, you're not the most masculine man I know and yet in another manner you sort of are. You're so into women that I just find it hard to imagine that you like being on my lap, sitting on a _poof's_ lap,''

Roger was really struggling not to punch a hole in the glass door. ''God, you're _really_ thickheaded sometimes you know that? I can't believe you, Fred. I know I don't have a brother but if I had, I would likely lounge around on his lap too, I've sat on Brian's lap before haven't I? And John's. We're in each other's personal space all the time!  
I see all of you as my brothers, my family. And yes, I'm a touchy guy, I like to cuddle. Even with my male friends. That doesn't mean anything. I just like all forms of attention, you know. They don't call me a slag for no reason,''  
''You're _not_ a slag,'' Freddie piped, always ready to defend Roger, even from himself. ''You're sweet for saying that, but you know I am,''  
''You just haven't found the right lass yet, but you will. Eventually,''  
''Stop trying to divert me to another subject you little minx. I'm not stepping into that bear trap or minx trap, whatever,''  
Freddie sniggered. ''Good for you,''  
''When will you tell the lads?''  
''About what, darling?''  
''The secret behind the ancient city of Atlantis. Jesus, what do you think I'm talking about?''  
Freddie smoothed a crease off his yellow jacket, looking at the fabric as if it was telling him a fascinating story. ''I can't tell them, Rog. Not yet,''  
''Why not?''  
''I'm just-I'm not ready. Not ready for everything to change,''

''Nothing will change, Freddie. Trust me on this,'' Roger assured him. Suddenly he had a thought. A proverbial light went on inside his mind. ''Is that why you're pulling away from me? Because you've somehow fooled yourself into thinking that I couldn't treat you the same as before? That it would be better to put some distance between us. Are you doing it to prepare yourself for the possibility that you may lose Brian and John if you tell them?''  
''That makes no sense at all, love,''

Well, Roger had to agree with that. It was a very far-fetched booze inspired theory. And yet it started to feel like it made sense. Freddie's avoiding gaze told him all he needed to know. ''I know and yet it does. It-''  
The balcony door slid open and Brian appeared in the doorway. ''Everything all right?''  
Roger exchanged a look with Freddie but didn't receive much information from him so decided to take manner into his own hands. ''Fine, Bri. We're just babbling,''  
''I saw you waving your arms around, Rog. You only do that when you're angry,''  
''It's nothing, we were debating intensely, that's all. Right, Fred?''  
''No we weren't and it's most certainly not all right. Shut the door Brian, my dear,''

Roger knew where this was going and felt a bit stunned by the sudden turn of events. He also didn't want Freddie to do this because he felt pressured by his words. ''Fred, you're drunk and you don't have to do this now. Not because I said-''  
''No, you were right. And I trust you, darling. And him too,'' he said, nodding at Brian, gesturing him to come closer. "Besides: I'm _always_ bloody drunk,''  
''You two are rightfully scaring me now, it's not bad news is it? Is someone ill?'' Brian inquired, face aghast with peril. He ruffled a hand through his soft curls for comfort, like he always did when he was positively terrified.  
Freddie laid a shaky hand to Brian's forearm, pulling him close. ''No, love. Everything is fine. C'me here. Stop fretting and frowning like that, it will make your pretty face hideously wrinkly,''  
Roger rolled his eyes at the spectacle that unravelled itself in front of him. Someone as tall and lanky as Brian standing there with Freddie's sturdy arms folded fiercely around him, it was nearly a comical sight. A strange paradox.

Roger suddenly felt like an unwanted bystander and turned to give them some privacy. ''Don't go, please,'' Freddie instantly blurted out. Sheer desperation mixed with crippling anxiety palpated throughout his shaky voice.  
Despite Freddie insisting that he could tell Brian on his own, he had changed his mind at the very last second. Roger had predicted that outcome long ago. Freddie was much more fragile than he appeared to be. On stage he was a rock God but off it, he was surprisingly shy and sensitive. He felt a wave of fondness course through his heart. Freddie still _needed_ him, which was nice to know. Comforting. ''All right, whatever you need, mate,''

Brian gazed inquisitively into Freddie's eyes, clearly hoping for a glint of what was to come but Freddie could be incredibly guarded when he wanted to be. Only Roger could see right through his facade but to the rest of the world, he could be an incredible mystery. A nagging question mark.

Freddie inhaled deep, bore his eyes into Brian's and exhaled loudly. Roger could literally feel Freddie's heartbeat hammering in his own ears. ''Bri, I'm...gay,''  
It was a testimony to Brian's character that his expression did not change whatsoever. His hazel eyes remained calm, stoic and kind and a tiny smile resonated on his lips. His hand cradled the left side of Freddie's face gently and he said, ''I know,''  
Roger was hardly surprised at that revelation, of course, Brian had known. But Freddie was obviously astounded. ''You-you knew?''  
''I was aware of it. I have eyes too, Fred. You never had to tell us, we've always known,''  
''Oh fuck, does Deaky know too?''  
''When I said _''we''_ I was referring to Roger and I but yes, he probably knows too. I don't know, we've never spoken about it. None of us have,'' he added when he saw Freddie narrowing his eyes to Roger, wondering whether they had discussed it amongst themselves.

''He's right,'' Roger grumbled, feeling mildly offended that Freddie questioned his integrity in his paranoia. ''I told you that weeks ago didn't I? That we've never spoken about it to each other? Since when do I lie to you?''  
''You wouldn't do that,'' Freddie said, looking embarrassed and mildly pale. Roger couldn't withhold the snap in his voice. ''Precisely,''  
Brian, political as ever intervened. ''Thank you for telling me, I know that must have been very difficult for you. I can tell that you're anxious things might change between us but they won't. I assure you. You're my best mate, Fred. My composing partner, the brother I never had. Nothing can ruin that fact, not even all our endless bickering at one another. You're stuck with me, whether you like it or not,''  
Freddie sniffed a tear away with the utmost difficulty. ''I like it,'' he managed to say before Brian pulled him into a massive embrace. Roger was dying to be included but decided not to push it. It was such a tender moment, he would hate the break the spell.

And then Freddie reached his hand out from Brian's waist, finding Roger's arm and pulling him in. And just like that, he was home. His face pressed against Brian's chest, Freddie's arm snugly wound around his side, his hand brushing through his hair. It was Freddie's way of apologizing.  
He'd never been good with uttering apologies out loud, he rather showed you how much he still cared for you and made it up to Roger by giving him what he needed the most. Affection. This hug was long overdue but no less welcome.

As he stood there, Brian holding onto them like a father would with his children, Roger mused over their friendship. He and Freddie were the closest of the group, the trouble twins, the ones who would be around each other all the time, just because they wanted to. There was no denying that fact but then again, Roger also relied on Brian and had a brotherly relationship with him.  
He loved pestering him and riling him up but in the end, he admired the hell out of Brian. He was the sane one of the group, the one you went to when you were in big trouble and needed to be rescued by the voice of reason. Roger had originally thought, when he first met Brian, that he was quite dull and uninteresting but there was a whole other side to their lovely guitarist and there was so much more to him than met the eye.

Freddie and Brian were as different as the sun and the moon and therefore clashed a lot. They could argue until the ending of their days but in the end, their partnership created the best songs. They constantly pushed each other to be even better.  
They were competing for the greater good and their perfectionism only improved Queen. Roger knew that Freddie saw Brian as a younger brother, seeing how he was the eldest of the band, but deep down the roles were reversed. They were the undeclared leaders of Queen and Roger and John were along for the ride. They wrote songs too but most of it came from Freddie and Brian.

Freddie mothered John like a flocking mother hen. He couldn't refuse John anything. Whatever he wanted he got, no questions asked.  
He was incredibly protective over him, making certain that he had whatever he needed, whether it was a cup of tea, a blanket when he was cold or a song that he desperately wanted to get on the album. John got it.  
If John had written and proposed they would put ''I'm in love with my car,'' on the album instead of Roger, Freddie would have likely given in immediately. He had fought Roger tooth and nail over it before he finally gave in after the whole cupboard situation.  
When John first joined Queen Freddie had taken him under his wing, making sure that he wouldn't feel left out because he was the last to join. John was pretty easygoing, he got along great with all of them.

Roger spent a lot of time with him when Brian and Freddie were off writing their songs, trapped into their own little worlds of creativity. He saw John as one of his best mates. They would often team up together against Brian and Freddie when it came to songs.  
As close as Freddie and Roger were they somehow still ended up on different sides of the debate when it came to their band decisions. Which was odd, now that Roger came to think of it, and on the other hand, it wasn't.  
They never fought over it, not really. But Roger would like the opportunity to get more of his songs on their albums someday, and he knew John felt the same. They just had to stage a coup at some point. Fight the power duo that was Freddie and Brian.  
Brian and John had a complicated bond. They were a bit harder to define. But in the end, they got along great.

Roger heard the door slide open once more and a voice piped up behind them. ''Oi! What did I miss?''  
Brian released his death grip and they all turned to face John. ''Come here, Deaky, I have to tell you something,'' Freddie said, gesturing at John.  
''Is everything all right?''  
''It's fine, love, don't worry about us,'' Freddie cooed, affectionately brushing a lock of long hair behind John's ear.

''Fred, you don't have to do this now,'' Roger had to say it, he could tell Freddie needed to hear it. Before he did something he might regret later on.  
''I know, darling, but it's time,'' Freddie was pretending to pull off a brave face but Roger saw right past it. He was anxious, scared to death that he would ruin things with John.  
Brian had been relatively easy, because Freddie had calculated on Brian already knowing and not caring about his sexuality but John, well that was another matter entirely. Freddie was mostly afraid that John wouldn't look at him the same any longer.  
That he wouldn't admire him or look up to him anymore. Losing John's love was something Freddie feared above all other things. Roger's heart went out for him. He admired Freddie for being brave enough to tell them both in the lifespan of a few minutes. It took immense courage.

Then again, Freddie had always been the bravest person Roger knew. It took courage for him to climb onto that stage for a concert. The audience might think it came naturally to him but Roger knew it didn't. He felt Freddie's nerves right before he put on his stage mask and strutted toward the crowd.  
It wasn't Freddie and yet somehow it was.  
He was so good at it, such a natural that it was nearly impossible to believe that Freddie had to put as much effort into his performance as he did. He was a born entertainer but only because he chose to be. It was a brilliant facet of him, an exuberant shard of his complicated character. Roger didn't know anyone who could handle a crowd as Freddie could, who could enchant them like that, could make them participate that well.  
There was a kind of magic to him. The kind that engulfed over the rest of them to enhance their own performance, that made them believe they could do absolutely anything as long as he was there to lead them on.  
On stage, he was like the unconquerable sun. Powerful and enticing. He sang so beautifully that he often nearly tore Roger from his rhythm, which was an incredible achievement seeing how he had a fabulous concentration.  
When they ended the show, however, he was completely drained and exhausted and would often retreat into the solace of his room. Occasionally he let Roger sit with him, other times he needed to be alone. He would join them later on for the after party but Roger always detected the tiredness in his eyes.

The noise of the door interrupted Roger's musings and he turned to see who it was that disturbed them. He sighed aggravated when he saw Paul fucking Prenter appear in the doorway. The man always had horrible timing. ''Freddie! Your guests are asking for ye,''  
Roger burst toward him before he could stop himself. ''Get out! Now. We're having a moment here. Freddie will be back when he _chooses_ to be. Now get the fuck out of my face before I throw you off the fucking balcony,''  
Paul turned to Freddie for help but for once Freddie decided not to give him what he wanted, clearly too keen on getting this over with first. When he realized Freddie wouldn't intervene Paul turned on his heels and slammed the door shut behind him.

''You shouldn't have done that, Rog,'' Freddie snorted.  
''Why not? He deserved it,''  
''You need to stop hating him,''  
''I tried that, it didn't take,''  
''You never gave him a chance,''  
''Oh bollocks, don't give me that crap again!''  
''Um chaps, can we get back on track here?'' John quipped. He was looking rather pale ( as always ) and quite apprehensive. ''What do you want to tell me?''

Brian turned to leave but Roger snatched his arm just in time, shaking his head. Freddie wanted them all here. That was important to him.  
Freddie chewed on his lower lip and placed his hands on the sides of John's face. ''Deaky, I'm not bisexual, I'm-''  
''Gay,'' John filled in when Freddie's voice broke. ''I know that, Fred. So what's the big news here?''  
''You knew?''  
John gave him his best "god you're so fucking ludicrous," look before shaking his head in disbelief. ''Yes _genius_ , I knew,''  
''And you don't-don't care?''  
''Why would I?''  
''I don't know, I mean, Veronica-''  
''Is fine with it. She believes that God is love, Freddie. And so do I. You're my friend and I care about you no matter what. Nothing will change that,''

Freddie snuggled John into his arms and Roger knew instinctively that he was crying due to his relief. Brian wrapped his arm around him and looked at them with a fondness that was so purely Brian that it could melt ice-sculptures. Roger hooked his arm around Brian's waist and smiled.  
Freddie reached back for them and then Roger was pressed against Freddie's back, his face nuzzled against the back of his neck. ''Told you no one would care?'' he couldn't help but say.  
''You just have to seize the last word don't you?''  
''Well, you know me,''  
Freddie turned his head and kissed Roger's temple. ''Yeah Blondie, I know you,''  
Roger pecked Freddie's forehead. ''I'm proud of you,''  
Freddie was beaming now, warmth radiating off his body. ''I couldn't have done it without you. Thank you for being here,''  
''I'm always here for you,''  
''Sorry I was a massive pillock to you,''  
''It's okay, I'm pretty much over it,''  
Freddie stroked some hair out of his face. ''Thanks, darling,''

John snorted so loud it nearly startled them, sneering, ''Lord, would you two like a room?''

Roger grinned. 

  

 

 

 

 

 

_TBC......._


	3. Is it raining in heaven?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During the News of the world tour, Roger gets a bit distracted during a show. 
> 
> Freddie is keen on finding out why but he won't like the answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking long to update you guys, life got in the way again! This was supposed to be a lighter chapter but I just can't write light stuff, I guess. 
> 
> This takes place around 1977, during the ''news of the world'' tour. Although I'm keeping it vague on where they are and during which time. Somethings said in the last dialogue aren't chronological yet. They are said in later times, during the Hot Space mess.  
> But I wanted to address them now, have Paul plant the seeds in Freddie's mind before I will go to the Hot Space misery. I will eventually get into that. Please bear in mind that this whole story is just fiction and my own imagination on how this all went down. I'm a new Queen fan ( since the movie ) so please don't bite my head off if things are inaccurate. You are free to tell me if you see typos and have more information for me when I write things that are wrong. 
> 
> I'm sticking with Roger's POV because that one's easier for me to write. But I will go back to Freddie's eventually. I wanted to show Paul's influence over Freddie. I hope I got it right. 
> 
> The last bit can be read as slash, I guess. But again, it's up to you whether you read it like that or not.  
> I personally don't. Let me know what you think guys, your opinions matter to me. <3

_Roger._

 

 

 

Freddie had said Brian May. Brian, Harold, _fucking_ May. Roger tried to forget the words but when he kept slipping up and missed a couple of beats during Sheer Heart Attack, he knew everyone had noticed. Unfortunately, his colleagues were that good and he was apparently hopelessly failing at forgetting to let it go. The audience was none the wiser but Freddie threw him a few wistful, aggravated looks when he turned to Roger with his mic, strutting all over the stage.  
When they were halfway through Spread Your Wings, Roger had finally found his rhythm again. He longed for the concert to be over so that he could hit the bar ( as hard as he could, literally ) and get absolutely shit-faced.

He knew he wasn't getting away from them that easily though, Brian and Freddie would be on him like a pair of starved bloodhounds for screwing up his beats. But in all fairness, he blamed them. And that absolute piece of garbage named Paul Prenter. He had initiated all of this with his stupid game.  
After the show, he flung his drumsticks into the audience so aggressively that he hoped he had not hit anyone in the eye and took his bow.

He followed the rest of them off the centre-stage and accepted a towel from a roadie. Brian and Freddie were stalking in front of him, Brian wrapping a lanky arm around Freddie's waist as they discussed the details of the show like they did every night after they'd finished.  
Roger felt his anger return and settle back into his chest like an all too familiar friend. ''All right there, Rog?'' John mumbled at his left, a fag dangling between his lips. Roger had hardly noticed him stepping in beside him. ''Fine Deaky, why?''

''You seem rather angry,''  
''I'm fine,'' Roger repeated tiredly. He was so done with all of them tonight. He wanted to take a long shower and then drink his irritation away. Well, that wasn't fair, Deaky hadn't done anything wrong, not really. At least he had said _his_  sodding name, not Brian's. Roger felt a bit remorseful for being so curt with their darling bass player and wrapped his arm around his shoulders. ''Sorry for being a bitch, Deaks,''  
''It's fine, I know precisely what's bugging you,''  
Roger didn't doubt it, John saw all. ''Of course, you do,''  
''Don't let it get to you so much, that's all I'm going to say about it. It was just a stupid game. They didn't mean anything by it,''  
''I realize that thank you very much and I'm not letting it get to me!''  
''Oi, don't shoot the bloody messenger. You missed _multiple_ beats, mate, that only happens when you're incredibly preoccupied and royally ticked off,''  
''Well spotted Einstein,''  
''Like I said: don't shoot the poor messenger, I'm only trying to help,'' John retorted dryly. He followed Roger into the dressing room and sank into a chair, dapping his sweaty face with his towel.

Freddie, to everyone surprise, shooed Paul out of the dressing room, along with all the roadies. ''But Freddie-'' Paul protested. ''I said now, darling!''  
Paul left with quite the racket, slamming the door behind them with a loud thud.  
He never liked to be excluded from their post-show conversations. But Freddie was adamant on it, thankfully. They discussed the concerts with the four of them, no one else was allowed to be present.

Although, Paul had delved his claws so deep into Freddie lately that Roger often worried that he would see the day eventually, where Paul would be present wherever they went.  
He was trying too hard to steal Freddie away from them, poisoning his mind with his words. Creating a wedge between them so that it would be easier to eventually have Freddie all to himself.  
Whispering in his ear about leaving them and start a solo career when he thought Roger wasn't listening. Paul was toxic to Freddie. He would lead him down a path so perilous that Roger feared might destroy his life, eventually. He knew that Brian and John saw it too, they were concerned about it as well, but Freddie wouldn't hear it, no matter how hard they tried to tell him.

Paul was a leech, one that would suck Freddie dry if he wouldn't become more suspicious of him soon. Roger would never stop fighting to convince Freddie of that fact. Even if he didn't listen, even if he stayed fucking stubborn. Roger was not letting that weasel use his best friend for his own personal greed. To Paul, Freddie was a golden ticket. Nothing more. He didn't care about him whatsoever. But Freddie cared for him, his big heart was as beautiful as it was dangerous.

Freddie then turned to Roger, as Roger knew he would. ''Rog, please tell me you did not nearly ruin a perfectly good show because you are ticked off over a fucking children's game?''  
''Maybe we should leave him be for now, hmm? This can wait until tomorrow can't it?'' John inquired, always one to help Roger out when he could. They liked to stick together, the youngsters against the ancient dinosaurs.

Roger loved him for trying but deep down, he knew he wasn't getting out of this one. To Freddie and Brian, a nearly ruined show was a cardinal sin, one that must always be addressed so that it would not happen again. Their perfectionism was why they were so great as a band.   
Freddie's persistent gaze spoke louder than words, telling Roger what he already knew. ''Sorry, love. We would like some actual answers from our lovely drummer right now if you don't mind that is,''

Freddie was doing this on purpose, trying to rile him up even further, up to the point where he felt like he might implode. _''We?_ Bri has his own voice, Fred, he can speak to me directly if something has gotten his knickers in a knot,''  
Freddie exchanged a triumphant look with Brian that Roger wanted to slap off his face. ''Told you he was jealous, I know my Roger,''

Brian gaped at him in disbelief, like he couldn't wrap his brain around the fact that Roger got this pissed off over something so futile. He had his renowned fatherly look on his face and Roger knew he was about to receive a tedious lecture that would make him want to fall asleep instantly.  
Like a toddler would from his grandfather when it was caught with his hand down the cookie jar. ''Rog-''  
Roger interrupted him rather rudely. ''No thank you, professor May. I'm in no mood for a sodding lecture. Save it for people who care to hear it,''  
''Rog, don't be rude like that,'' Freddie mediated, always the one who jumped in during their arguments. Only today, that was another slap in the face to Roger. That he chose Brian's side over his after he had already dismissed him earlier.

''Just leave me the fuck alone!!! Yes, I screwed up today, I realize that and I'm sorry for it. There's no need for you two hyenas to remind me of it. Believe me, I can recall each beat I missed.  
Each note I didn't quite reach. Just bugger off. I'm very sorry that I endangered the show but can we leave it at that? I'm not some sodding child that's too stupid to realize its mistakes. Just back the fuck off!'' Roger shouted. He sank back into his chair, briefly gazed at his own reflection and startled over how crimson his cheeks were. How heated his eyes looked. He was amazed that Freddie wasn't impressed with his anger.

Then again, Freddie had always been a stubborn, pigheaded bastard, who was adamant on protecting Roger, even from himself. He knelt down in front of his chair and folded his hands over Roger's. They were soft and no matter how much Roger wanted to bat them away, for in his mind they were unwelcome, he didn't. He let Freddie soothe him.  
His anger subsided a bit with each stroke of the well-manicured fingers.  
Freddie had his black nail polish on today, which he had applied himself, before painting Brian's white. The bloody black and the white queen, how very fitting. Twins, very much like their songs from the Queen II album. 

He was still in his checkered leotard, a few beads of sweat dancing on his temples and he looked utterly wrecked and displeased. Also, a tiny bit hurt. ''Rog, I told you long ago that I could _never_ fuck you. So I don't quite understand why you're this cross with me that I chose Brian for that silly pretentious game. It was only a hypothetical all right?  
'If your bandmates would be the only people left on the planet and you could only fuck one of them, who would you choose?' Just a game. Who else could I pick? I can't pick Deaky, he's like my sodding child. For obvious reasons, I can't pick you, so that only leaves me with one option doesn't it?''

 _'For what obvious reasons?'_ Roger wanted to protest but Brian beat him to the punch and he reluctantly pressed his lips together, sulking hard. He had to contemplate what he wanted to say before he thought it. But that had never been his forte when he was royally pissed off.

''Well, that certainly makes me feel really special, being chosen due to lack of proper competition,'' Brian mocked, rolling his eyes at Freddie. ''Hey don't turn this around on me, dear, you picked me too!'' Freddie sneered back at Brian. ''Yes, well. As you said: for obvious reasons. I suppose Rog, being the designated, self-declared sex god that he claims to be, is just insulted that only Deaky chose to fuck him if he had to,''  
John averted his eyes, cheeks heating up. Roger could tell he was getting immensely uncomfortable with this conversation and he felt bound to stick up for him. But before he could, Freddie had responded with the speed of light. Beating him to the punch, once again.  
''You may be onto something there,'' Freddie proclaimed, smirking wide.

Roger rolled his eyes, shoving Freddie back in his seat. ''Oh bugger off! Why don't you two get married already! You deserve each other!''  
''If Bri was gay I'd marry him in a heartbeat, god, can you imagine how much _easier_ my life would be? I would always have someone to cook for me in the house, and someone who helps me look after the cats, who assists me with minding the garden,''  
''Which are obviously the only demands you require in a partner,'' Roger sighed, rolling his eyes at him.  
''Well, he also has to be brilliant in bed obviously, but then again, it's always the quiet ones like him that mustn't be underestimated. I reckon, from chatting with Chrissie, that I wouldn't be left unsatisfied,''  
''Oh lord, please stop!'' Brian pleaded desperately, cheeks red with shame. ''I don't want to talk about this, let alone think of the idea of, well you know. I'm getting a migraine,''  
''Hey _you_ initiated this yourself! Don't come crying to me that I cleverly turned the tables on you and that it's blowing up in your fucking face,'' Roger deflected.  
''Good point, Rog!'' Freddie commended him.  
''Oi! Which bloody side are you on exactly, Fred? As your _faux-husband_ I can't help but to feel incredibly offended,'' Brian sulked, lips pouting but he was grinning.  
''Oh you know me, love. I don't take sides. Not when it comes to band decisions. Someone has to be the adult around here. And as the eldest of the group, I guess that ungrateful task has befallen onto me. Sadly. No good parent chooses a side when their children are fighting, you know,''

''Says the one who literally picked the professor over me tonight,'' Roger snorted. He lit a fag and waited for Freddie's witty comeback that never came.  
Freddie narrowed his ebony eyes and sighed, deflated. ''Can you two leave us alone for a bit? We need some time to talk,''  
''Of course, we'll be at the bar, talking about which club we want to go to later. If you're still up for it, that is,'' John chimed, looking rather fretful about leaving them alone. He glanced at Roger who shrugged and reassured him. ''We'll be fine,''  
Brian nodded pensively and patted Roger's shoulder before he opened the door for John and closed it behind them.

Freddie conveyed Roger closely and sank into the seat at his right, leaning in with a fretful, worried look on his face that made him look incredibly old. ''What's going on with you, darling? Are you having some sort of strange existential crisis? Do you actually want to sleep with me? Are you experimenting or something?''  
It took all of Roger's willpower not to cringe, knowing that doing so would royally piss Freddie off. ''Of course not! It's not about that! I promise you that I don't want to sleep with you, not now, not ever,''  
Freddie lit his own cigarette at the same time Roger stubbed his own out in the ashtray and lit a second. ''Then why are you suddenly being so jealous? And don't pretend to claim that it's all about that stupid game because I know it runs deeper than that. So what's this really about, darling?''

Roger swore under his breath. He searched for the emergency exit but knew that doing so was futile. Once Freddie had delved his claws in something that required an actual answer he wouldn't let go until he had received it. There was no eluding this. But Roger was dreading it. Freddie was right of course, this wasn't at all about Brian, nor Freddie not picking him for that fucking game.  
The problem, however, was that Freddie wouldn't listen to what Roger had to say. His mind was overthrown by the very person that Roger tried so hard to push out of his head. ''You won't like it,'' he warned, blowing out a circle of smoke.  
''Probably not no, but tell me anyway. You promised to always be upfront with me and tell me the truth. So tell me your truth, Rog. Even if I won't enjoy hearing it. I still care about what you think,''

''Do you?'' Roger had attempted to bite his tongue but failed. He knew he was out of line, he was being unnecessarily cruel but Paul's influence had left a mark on him, polluting his better judgement. He had held his tongue for far too long already.  
Maybe it was time to actually speak his mind for once after years of holding it all in.  
Even if Freddie might hate him for it. He still wanted to protect him, even if it would cost him his friendship.  
Freddie had earned that much. He realized crystal clear that he might be playing right into Paul's hand by doing this but he was too far gone to go back. In for a penny in for a pound.

Roger was balancing on very thin ice, one little mishap and he could fall into the water. Lose Freddie for good. He had to be cautious and tactful at the same time. As if he was walking on a tight rope over an erupting volcano. He had to focus if he wanted to make it out of here in one piece, with Freddie still as his best friend. It would require tact and nearly surgical precision. Roger wished at that moment that Brian was there to help him out. Tact suited him far better than it could ever suit Roger. But he had to make it on his own. He knew how to handle Freddie, but this wasn't his Freddie anymore. Not completely. He had changed and not for the better.

Freddie's eyes turned harder. ''That was highly uncalled for, love,''  
Roger's heartbeat started hammering behind his ears. He felt anxious despite the brave face he pretended to put on. ''I know, but I won't take it back. Lately, I can't tell whether you still care what I think anymore. It sometimes feels like I don't even know who you are any longer, Fred. You've changed,''

''How can you even suggest that I don't care what you think? Your opinion means the most to me, out of every fucking person on this planet! How dare you, I can't believe you would say that to me!'' Freddie was becoming unhinged very rapidly now. He looked as if he might burst out into tears and at the same time like he might punch Roger in his face. He was clearly quite hurt and affected by Roger's words, as he had predicted he would be. Waves of sadness and confusion radiated off him and coursed over Roger.

Roger realized that if he couldn't get through to Freddie now, the hard way, that he would lose him forever. He had to do this, for Freddie. Even if he might hate him for it. Even if he would never speak to him again. Nothing was worth risking Freddie's heart over.  
Roger considered himself the keeper of Freddie's soul, the person who always had the duty to keep him safe. Even from himself.  
If Freddie was too blind to see it, then Roger had to force him to open his eyes. No one else could achieve it but him. Brian had often advised him against this conversation and John had agreed with Brian for once but there was no going back now. Roger had passed the proverbial point of no return.

He exhaled deep and clasped onto Freddie's hands, holding them tight in his own. ''You asked me long ago to always tell you the truth and I shall keep my promise. But I need you to listen to me and to believe me when I tell you why I'm so worried about you.  
Do you understand? You need to really listen to me. Even if you don't like what I'm telling you. Bear in mind that I'm merely saying it for your own good. Can you do that for me? Please, Freddie? Can you believe in me and hear me out without punching me?''

Freddie chuckled briefly, rubbing his forefinger over Roger's palm. ''Oh all right, I shall hear what you have to say, love. I can never say no to that darling, angelic little face,''  
''Thanks but you won't like it,''  
''No, judging from your grim-looking expression I won't, but I will hear it nonetheless. Because I love you, Blondie and you deserve to be heard,''  
Roger shut his eyes as he tried to deal with that sudden burst of sweetness that he felt he didn't deserve.  
He swallowed hard and felt tears well up behind his eyelids.  
This was going to be much-much harder than he had ever anticipated. He didn't want to harm Freddie but he knew he would. Involuntarily, sure, but Freddie wouldn't get out of this unscathed and neither would he. Roger would lose no matter how this turned out.

When Roger remained quiet and a tear rolled down his cheek, Freddie grew increasingly concerned. He cupped Roger's face and forced him to look him in the eye. ''Rog, what did I do to make you this upset? Hmm?''  
Roger burst out into tears before he could stop the tidal wave of emotion that eroded over him. Years of pent up anger and fear of losing Freddie to Paul were suddenly sprung free. A dam had broken in his mind, one that could not be mended.  
Freddie, nurturing and loving as always, gathered him into his arms and held him tightly as Roger cried like a sodding child. Roger had felt so helpless all those years and for that, he would never forgive Paul.

Roger hated feeling completely helpless and powerless. Paul had stolen Freddie right from underneath his nose and there had been nothing he could do to stop him, hence the feeling of disillusion and hopelessness that had claimed him whenever he saw Paul whisper something in Freddie's ear.  
Corrupting his heart as well as his mind.  
Freddie trusted Paul completely and therein lay the biggest problem. If Roger forced him to choose between them he may not end up on the winning side and that thought terrified him more than anything else.  
He feared that if he told Freddie that he might never hold him like this again, that he wouldn't look at him with fondness anymore. That he would kick him out of Queen or that he might leave Queen himself to pursue a solo career.

When he dried his eyes and sniffed hard he turned his attention back to Freddie. ''Promise that I won't lose you once I tell you and that you will listen to me even if you don't like to hear it,''  
''Rog-''  
''Promise me,''  
''I promise,'' Freddie conceded, a mildly fretful look on his face. He was as anxious about this as Roger was and in a strange way, that realization helped. Gave him more strength to pursue this balancing act.

''It's about Paul, you know,''  
When Freddie's gaze hardened Roger immediately realized full well that this was a massive, humongous mistake. He had already made an attempt at this conversation long ago, but Freddie had refused to listen even then. Why would he suddenly start now? Roger should have drunk more Vodka during Brian's solo tonight. He needed a drink the size of his head.  
''We're not bringing that up again, darling,''  
''Oh yes we are because you promised to listen to me. Believe me, I don't want to have this conversation any more than you do but I have to. For your sake. Don't you understand? I'm trying to keep you safe,''  
''From who, darling?''  
''From yourself, Fred. Paul may be a menace but he's not the root problem, it's that you chose to believe in him. Despite my warning years ago, despite Brian and Deaky telling you that they didn't like him. You chose to befriend him, to have faith in him. But you can't see what he's doing to you. That he's using you like his personal show pony. He wants to make money off of you Freddie and he wants you to leave Queen to go solo,''

''How do you even know about that?''  
''Brian overheard him saying that to you at that Christmas party last year. That rat also said that he wasn't too fond of his guitar solos and that maybe you should reduce them a bit. Do you have any idea how hurtful that was for Bri?''  
Freddie folded his arms defensively across his chest. ''But I haven't told Bri that he can't do his guitar solos anymore did I?''  
''Not yet, Fred. But you told him you would consider it. You should have told him to fuck off when he even dared to imply it. Shame on you for not taking Bri's side. You love his guitar solos! He's your very own Jimi Hendrix! In what bloody universe would you ever agree to even contemplate discarding them?''  
''I wouldn't,'' Freddie agreed wistful.  
''Normally no, you wouldn't. And yet you did, by not arguing against it. In your silence, you agreed to think about it. To consider it. How could you do that to Brian? Your own little guitar god?''

Freddie looked aghast as if Roger's bluntness had made him realize that he may be onto something. Roger may have actually stuck oil with his example. He knew that Freddie idolized Brian for his guitar work and that he would never voluntarily kick Brian to the curb, limiting his incredible talent and silencing the infamous Red Special. And yet he had thought about it. Which was as offensive to Brian as it was to Roger and John. The fact that Freddie wanted to decide something like that on his own was quite harmful.  
The old Freddie had never even thought twice about it but as Roger had stated: Freddie had changed. He had crumbled under Paul's thumb. Occasionally when he spoke it was almost as if Roger heard Paul instead of Freddie.

Freddie's stricken, horrified face turned Roger's heart a bit softer. He stoked a lock of hair from his face and held onto his the back of his neck. ''He's trying to come between us, Fred. To create a wedge between the four of us so that he can steal you away from us. Don't you see? He's constantly looking for openings to wiggle in so that he can isolate you from us. That game he so innocently suggested tonight was another example.  
He knew that it would piss me off, that it would make Deaky uncomfortable and that Brian might be cross at you if you picked him. He couldn't lose.  
And even if it didn't work out the way he planned he could always come up with something else, purposely take you to a gay club tonight knowing that we would never go with you two, therefore having you all to himself again.  
You've been clubbing a lot lately, without us. I get that you're coming to terms with your sexuality and that you want to experience new things but I'm worried for you. I just want you to be safe,''

''Nothing is going to happen to me, darling. I understand your concerns but they're not necessary. I trust Paul and while I understand you don't like him, he's still my friend and he's not going anywhere. If you would only give him a chance you'd see that he's a great man,''  
''He's not, Freddie. Trust me, he's not,''  
''Well let's agree to disagree then. I love you for caring Rog, but if you ever bring this up again, I swear that you will regret it. You voiced your concerns twice now and that's enough. Strike three means you're out,''  
Freddie wasn't talking about kicking him out of the band but out of his own heart.

Roger supposed he should feel glad that Freddie wasn't kicking him to the curb already by telling him all of this. It wasn't his fault, not really. He was so under Paul's mind control that he couldn't tell right from wrong anymore. Freddie only gave him a third chance because he couldn't bear it to lose Roger. At least that part of him was still real and still only belonged to Roger. Paul couldn't steal that away from them and in a way, that was nice to know. That there was only one person in the entire world that he could never corrupt in Freddie's eyes.  
Freddie was being poisoned gradually and slyly but he could still see Roger clearly. He may even try to break free from Paul's grasp by not sending Roger from his side right now.

Freddie exhaled hard and gently held onto Roger's cheeks while their eyes met somewhere in the middle. When he saw Roger's palpable despair and anguish his expression softened and he put his inner bitch to sleep for the day, bringing out the warm loving queen that Roger adored so much. 

Freddie's ebony gems were soggy and moist and Roger felt his own leaking a tiny bit too. ''You'll never lose me, you silly bitch. You're my person, you'll always be my person.  
Even when I wanna punch you in the face. You're the only one who really knows me.  
And I need you not to be cross with me for keeping Paul around. I want both of you in my life. But I will always love you more and that's a fucking promise.  
Yeah, I may have picked Brian to sleep with but if I had to choose someone to be shipped to a deserted island with I would always pick you to come with me. If I could only spend the rest of my days with one person in the whole world I would always pick you. No one else can make me laugh so hard that I forget my own name.  
No, we wouldn't have sex but at least we would be happy and drunk for the rest of our lives, right? Built parties on the beach just for ourselves, get drunk on pirate rum or something like that,''

Roger chuckled amicably at the thought of him and Freddie alone on some island in the Pacific ocean, partying and being pissed all day long. ''Sounds like a plan,'' he agreed. He held Freddie close to his chest once more, relieved that he hadn't lost everything that mattered to him by addressing the issue.  
He decided not to press on about the Paul problem. It wasn't the right time. He had tried twice now and realized that Freddie would have to come to the same conclusion as he had on his own. He knew that he couldn't do anything else for him.

Eventually, Freddie would see the real Paul. He would slip up in time and Freddie would see the truth. Roger only hoped that it wouldn't be too late for Freddie. That he hadn't self-destructed by then, crumbling under Paul's vile influence.  
That was his biggest fear, that if by some miracle, Freddie would make it out of Paul's claws that he would still end up as the loser in the end.  
For now, at least, Freddie was safe. He was with him.  
His loving, forgiving best friend still loved him and Roger would drink it all in while he still could.  
For it might all be gone tomorrow.

 

 

 

 

 

_TBC......_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise that the next couple of chapters will be muuuuch lighter guys. I already started on them and there will be loads of fluff and banter. No Paul in it either. Hope that will make you ( and me ) happy after this heavier one.


	4. Do you want us to cry?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roger ambushes Freddie in the middle of the night for a surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long guys ( yes again, I sound like a broken record ), but life gets in the way. 
> 
> After all the heavier chapters, I was in the mood for some fun ones. So these will be much lighter and filled with quality friendship time. Just the two of them, no distractions or anything like that. 
> 
> I hope you will like it. Please send me your thoughts.

_Freddie._

 

 

 

Freddie was sound asleep when the noise of an insistent banging disturbed him, crudely bringing him back to reality. He blinked a few times, confounded by all the racket and felt Delilah stirring at his neck. Romeo was up at his left side, ears pointed up curiously. ''Fred! Open up, it's me!''

For some absurd reason, Roger was at his bedroom door in the middle of the bloody night. Freddie looked at his clock which told him it was nearly four in the morning! He had only been asleep for an hour after the party.  
He sighed, aggravated to be awoken from his beauty sleep, folded the duvet back and stumbled to the door. He kept his bedroom door locked for obvious reasons but Roger had a key to the Garden Lodge. One that he frequently used, often letting himself in uninvited.  
Freddie donned his red, silky bathrobe around his naked posture and stumbled to the door, still hazy and mildly queasy from the Vodka he'd drank that evening. His hands quivered on the door handle as he unlocked the door with the massive golden key. ''Yes, dear? What is it?''

''Why on earth aren't you ready?'' Roger gaped, blinking rapidly. He was wearing a pair of dark green trousers, a crisp white blouse, black shoes and his golden fur coat. Combining the beige of the fur with his matching sun-kissed hair made him look like a proper maned regal lion.  
His sunglasses were dancing on top of his hair. He looked like your typical A-list jet setter, straight out of a fashion magazine, getting ready for a relaxing weekend in St Tropes. Roger was as ever, the very epitome of style. The prat.   
''Ready for what, darling?''  
''Flipping hell, I should have known you'd forget! For our flight silly! Our plane leaves in four hours!''

Freddie was properly lost now as he scrambled through his brainpan to decipher Roger's words. What the hell was he going on about? His head was tormenting him. "Plane?''  
''Yes an aeroplane, you know those massive things that hang in the sky with two great wings and engines powering it along. Bri calls them flying coffins if you remember?''  
''Yeah I know what planes are thank you very much, but I fail to see why I should be on one in a few hours!''  
''I told you weeks ago that I was going to take you for a little trip on your birthday, didn't I?''  
''I have zero recollection of that and it's not my birthday for another week and a half!''  
''Exactly, then again: it wouldn't _technically_ be much of a surprise if I took you on your actual birthday so I'm kidnapping you for our trip right now. Surprise! Get your suitcases and get ready to leave,''  
''But I haven't even properly packed anything!''  
''That's all arranged Fred, I made Paul pack your bags for you yesterday, you know,''

Freddie was involuntarily impressed with that achievement, considering the never-ending, palpable animosity between the two of them. It was only a matter of time before one of them would end up dead and buried. Freddie's money was on Paul, knowing damn well how tough Roger could be when he got all protective over him. ''How on earth did you manage to get him to do that?''  
''Oh come on, he's gay and I'm really quite charming when I want to be. I used my irresistible looks to my advantage and I asked really-really nicely,''  
Freddie snorted humorlessly. ''So you bribed him then,''  
Roger smirked wide. ''Of course, I bloody did. He asked quite a lot of money too, that sodding cheapskate,''

The realization was dawning on Freddie as his brain finally clicked into action again. ''Wait a minute you wily minx! So I hadn't actually forgotten any appointments or trips with you, you were just yanking my chain!''  
''Yeah, you know me, somethings just aren't supposed to change you know? Now go take a quick shower-emphasis on _quick_ \- and get ready to leave, we're sort of on the clock here, Fred,''

Freddie's haziness wore off and a hint of excitement was stirring in his chest at the prospect of taking a little trip with Roger. ''Where are we going then, darling?''  
''Oh no, that will remain a surprise until we get there and that's not negotiable,''  
The light feeling that had fluttered around in his chest fell immediately and was being replaced with familiar gnawing insecurities that ate at his intestines. ''Come on that's rubbish, don't be so bloody tedious! You know I get absolutely unbearable when I'm super curious and hyped up like this. I won't let it go until you tell me. If you don't it might be a super long day for you,''  
''You'll find out when we get to the fucking airport and that's the last I wanna hear about it,'' Roger said decisively, voice leaving no room for debate.

But then again, Freddie was never one to surrender that easily. He would ask Roger again, but not right now. When he least expected it. And then if he still wouldn't indulge him he would repeat the question twenty times over. Our forty. As long as Roger spilt his beans.  
Curiosity should be a cardinal sin if you asked Freddie. He surely considered it one of his weaknesses. Curiosity not only killed the cat but it also got him in trouble on certain occasions.

''Now get in that shower before I grow old of waiting for you,'' Roger ordered. Freddie pouted at him, lip curled up to pointlessly tempt Roger to spill. ''Since when are you such a demeaning little bitch?''  
''Since always as you bloody well know,'' Roger grinned, lighting a fag and taking a long drag before blowing the smoke out in a near pristine looking circle. ''You keep getting better at that,''  
Roger shrugged carelessly. ''Practice makes perfect, you know,''  
''Always so modest,''  
''Will you get into the fucking shower before I force you? Might wash your lovely alcohol perfume off of you!''  
''Oh are you going to pretend you're sober right now?''  
''When am I _ever_ truly sober?'' Roger cackled, stroking his fingers over Romeo's back when he came in for a cuddle. All Freddie's cats loved Roger but Romeo was always all over him whenever he was around, which was ironic considering his name. Roger smiled and scratched the cat fondly behind its brown ears. "Hello, my good old fashion lover boy," Freddie heard Roger whisper as Romeo purred lavishly.   
''You're sober about as often as I am, so once in a blue moon,'' Freddie suggested, giving Roger's shoulder a little shove. ''I'll be right back, love. Can you feed the cats for me? They're all up now anyway. I assume-''  
''Yes, they will be cared for when we're gone, as always. I've literally taken care of _everything_ , mate. Mary is coming in every day to feed them and cuddle with them. Besides, we'll only be gone for two nights,''

Freddie felt a tinge of disappointment coursing through his veins. He was truly hoping for a longer vacation, the last couple of months had been incredibly tiring and he wanted to go to sleep for a year.  
Roger detected it, as always and laid a hand to his clad shoulder. ''We've got to practice for our tour, mate. I was lucky Brian and Deaky agreed to three days off. They weren't too pleased with us skipping town two months before the big tour. They also weren't too happy about not being invited along. Oh well, fuck it, this isn't about them right now.  
Anyway I know you needed a break and frankly so do I, to be honest, I'm bloody exhausted. I started bargaining for a week but I knew that was a long shot. Figured I'd aim high you know. They agreed to three days and two nights.  
I suppose it's better than nothing. That's why I booked us on the earliest flight so we still have a long day ahead of us when we land today. We also leave quite late on the last day. So we have three whole days,''  
''And we'll be spending those _where_ exactly?''  
''Nice try, go shower, now,''

Freddie winked at his best friend and hopped into the shower with the excitement of a five-year-old on Christmas morning. He was amped up already, just knowing that he would have three whole days of blissful peace and time off was a tremendous birthday gift.  
At home, they were always working on something, an album, preparations for a tour, doing press conferences and all that. Even at the Garden Lodge he never had a day off, he would spend the late nights writing new songs and correcting them, perfecting them until he was pleased with them.  
Which usually took up nearly all of his time, occasionally resulting in him skipping a night's sleep to finish a record.

He would often telephone Brian in the middle of the night to discuss a note he didn't like and to try to figure out what they could replace it with. Occasionally Brian would not pick up, getting too fed up with Freddie's late-night musings and his own troubled sleeping that the would unplug his telephone in order to get some much-needed rest.

Whenever that happened, Freddie would call Roger, who always picked up and was always ready to help him out with his incredibly creative suggestions.  
Roger had a fantastic, imaginative mind, one that always saw a solution to each problem.  
He could come up with the most inquisitive notes and beats in a split second, which was immensely impressive.  
Whenever the three of them were stuck during the process of creating a song, Roger would often jump in with the proverbial lifeline for them to cling to. He was an unseen genius that didn't get nearly enough credit from the press for all his fabulous ideas if you asked Freddie.

Freddie and Brian usually received all the kudos for their work but John and Roger were every bit as vital to their success. Together they were the secret weapons of Queen.

Freddie rinsed himself happily and quickly, singing a verse from ''In the lap of the Gods,'' before stepping out of the steaming water and drying himself happily. The anticipation of where they were going was killing him but in all the best ways.  
He really loved Roger for doing this, for taking him away from all the frantic chaos in their lives and bring him to, well somewhere peaceful and warm, he assumed. He hoped.

They could use this vacation, to somewhat rekindle their fractured, slightly mangled friendship. Things hadn't been the same lately, not after their countless verbal and non-verbal debates over Paul and the influence he had on Freddie.  
There was often tension lingering between them and Freddie hated it with all his heart. This holiday was exactly what they needed to get back on the same page.  
With no interruptions from Paul, horny groupies, Brian, John, Miami or anyone else.  
Freddie had felt bad that things had been rather shitty and poor between him and Roger for a long time. He wanted everyone to be happy around him and Roger in particular.  
He would do anything for him and feeling him gradually pull away from him had been unspeakably difficult to digest. Even if Freddie realized that he was probably mostly to blame for it by actually allowing Paul to get between them.

Freddie brushed his teeth, put on a thin layer of charcoaled eyeliner and combed his raven hair rapidly, checking his reflection a million times, never once happy with what he saw staring back at him.  
He looked positively ghastly, eyes red and exhausted due to sleep deprivation and when he brushed his teeth he cringed at them for the umpteenth time. Hideous.  
He dressed quickly in sullen silence, putting on his pair of favourite black trousers and a purple blouse with flowers on it before he joined Roger in the hallway and took his yellow coat from the hanger.

''Well that only took half an hour, the car is here, waiting for us,'' Roger chided, tapping his watch impatiently.  
''You know me, darling. I want to look dashing and as you know that requires the necessary amount of time, especially if you wake me in the middle of the fucking night,''  
''Yeah, yeah, look I have your suitcases, say bye to the cats and let's get cracking,'' Roger would get like this when he was on the clock to make a flight.  
He would get really anxious and stressed whether they would be at the airport in time, whether there would be traffic on the way there or a massive queue that would make them miss their flight. He would be super grumpy when customs would pick his bag and rummage through it.  
Only when he was finally settled into this seat in the aeroplane he would relax.

Well, that was until Brian would start ranting about the safety of air travel or the lack thereof. Freddie often had to shut Brian up with a game of scrabble ( which Brian always won, damn those bloody intellectuals ) to prevent Roger from losing his shit and getting all hyped up for the entire duration of their flights.  
Roger wasn't typically a nervous flyer but he would be when Brian kept bugging him. Usually, Freddie would make sure they were seated as far away from each other as possible, to prevent problems.  
Brian would sit with his beloved Red Special that he refused to check into the luggage compartment and John would keep Roger company. Or sometimes Freddie, when John was tired and would fall asleep in his seat. They would play scrabble together, read books or just chatted about life. That reminded Freddie. ''Did you bring the scrabble board along with you, dear? We might actually finally have a fair game, now that Bri isn't here to beat us,''

Roger cocked his head, giving him the answer. ''I know my audience, thank you very much, so, ready to go?''  
Freddie nodded and after quickly kissing all of the cats goodbye ( which always made him sob like a child ) he followed Roger to the taxi. When they arrived at Heathrow the airport was nearly deserted. There were few passengers wandering around with suitcases and other luggage but it was mostly quiet. ''Passport,'' Roger demanded, making Freddie reach deep into the pocket of his coat to find it.  
He then walked to the check-in desk and handed the sleepy stewardess their passports, whispering something to her that Freddie couldn't define and pointed at him.  
Freddie searched for indications as to where they were going but found nothing, seeing how they stood in front of one of the countless British Airway desks that revealed nothing helpful. ''Of course, I hope you have a pleasant flight,''  
''Thank you,'' Roger said politely, winking at her like the flirty devil he was. Freddie could just see the charming stewardess blushing and leaning into her colleague to spread the news as if she couldn't believe that Roger Taylor had just winked at her.

When they had cleared the security and wandered around near the gates, Freddie had grown tired of waiting. ''Now will you tell me where we're going, love?''  
''No,''  
''C'me on, _Blondie!''_  
''Nope, you'll find out in an hour when we board. Why don't you walk around, look at the destinations you see and guess which one we're going to?''  
''You're being mean,''  
''Ah you poor baby, patience Fred. _Patience,_ ''  
''That's rich, coming from the _most_ _impatient_ man in the entire fucking world!''  
Roger made him wait another hour until finally revealing to which gate they were going to go. Then just when Freddie thought he had figured it out, Roger fished out a red blindfold. Freddie blinked. ''You are joking, you have got to be joking,''  
''Oh I never joke about blindfolds, Freddie. Don't be cross. Turn around, let me put this on,''

Freddie wasn't feeling this, the forethought of sitting in a plane for hours and still not knowing anything rubbed him the wrong way. ''You can't be serious! How will you leave me in the dark during the whole flight? The pilot always says where we're going so it won't be a secret much longer! Just tell me,''  
''Not this pilot, mate. We have our own private plane. I hired it just for us. You will not hear anything about where we're flying to. The blindfold is only so you won't see the destination on the sign above the gate. I'll let you take it off when we passed it,''  
Freddie started to get rightfully fretful and aggravated with this little game. ''Oh you'll _let_ me?''  
''Don't do that. Don't be all impossible and whiny. Just let me put this on and follow me? Please?'' Roger pouted, curling his upper lip up to lay more emphasis on his pleading. Which was always effective on Freddie, as he bloody well knew, he was never very skilled in telling Roger off.

''Oh very well, but it better be good!''  
''Trust me, it will be worth the wait,''  
''You know I'm totally going to use this against you whenever _you're_ being an impatient brat about anything ever again, right?''  
Roger smirked wide, before stepping behind Freddie and tying the fabric over his eyes. ''Oh, I know. I'll figure a way out of it by then, don't underestimate me,''  
''I never do,''  
''Well, only _occasionally_ ,'' Roger tutted. He waved a severely blurry hand in front of Freddie's face. ''Can you see that, mate?''  
''See what?''  
''Liar, you can still see movement can't you?''  
''Little bit yes. But I'm sure I can't read anything,''

Roger, still suspicious with him, decided to double-check that statement by firmly folding his hands over Freddie's eyes when they passed the gate. Freddie rolled his eyes at him. ''And they dare to call me the drama queen? There are at least _two_ hysterical queens in this band, love. Well, three if you count Bri when he's on an aeroplane being absolutely terrified and insufferable,''  
''Welcome aboard, sir,'' a female stewardess called out to Freddie. He still couldn't see her due to Roger's insistence on being so damned secretive. ''Oh hello, darling,''  
''Good morning, love,'' Roger chimed behind him, voice low and haughty, indicating that he was flirting with her, which brought him to the conclusion that she must have been a pretty lass.

Roger finally removed his hands and the blindfold and nudged Freddie into a luxury seat while he sank down in the one beside him after storing their luggage into the overhead compartments. The stewardess was very pretty indeed. Blond haired, slender, impossibly long legs and massive blue eyes. Just Roger's type.  
She glided over toward them and Freddie decided to seize the moment, head on. ''Pardon me, love, but would you be a dear and please tell me where we're going on this beautiful morning?''  
She smiled politely, revealing her pearly whites and then shook her head. ''I apologize Mr Mercury, but I've been given clear instructions _not_ to reveal such information to you,''  
''Roger! You can't be serious!''  
''Oh and here I thought that the blindfold and all the other secrecy was a testimony to exactly how serious I am about all of this,''  
The stewardess quickly walked back to the gantry, grabbing her chance to elude Freddie's questions by getting ready for departure.

''Look, Rog. I love you for doing all of this for me. I do. But this is fucking ridiculous. Why are you being this difficult with me?''  
Roger lit a fag and was clearly praying for patience. He was beginning to lose his temper. ''You're the one who can't sit here and accept a nice birthday retreat, not me. So who's being truly difficult? Not me,''

Freddie knew he was giving Roger a hard time, but the truth was that he was secretively a bit anxious toward surprises, even though he acted like he genuinely enjoyed them whenever his bandmates ambushed him for his birthday parties or things like that. But he liked the clarity and knowing where he was going so he had time to prepare himself for it. And Roger jumping him, snatching him from his bed in the middle of the night without revealing anything hadn't exactly helped.  
He masqueraded it quite well, his excessive hatred for unwelcome surprise departures but he realized that he would have to come clean to Roger about why he couldn't stand them. He owed him that much.

He inhaled deep and accepted a smoke from Roger's pack. ''Okay so I never told this to anyone. I know it's a bit ludicrous too, but-''  
''Hey if it's bugging you it's not ludicrous. Tell me what's on your mind, mate. That's what I'm here for. See this is _why_ we need this trip, Fred. You always used to tell me everything. Before...we had all these people around we used to talk for hours. It was just us. You never hid anything from me,''

''This isn't about Paul, this is something that I've been lunging around since I was young. You're right, we do need this trip but this secret isn't about Paul or anything related to the band. I wanted to tell you but somehow it never came up,''  
Roger laid a hand to Freddie's forearm, his other still nursing the familiar cigarette. Seeing Roger without a smoke was like seeing a drum set without its drummer. ''Okay, so tell me now,''  
''Remember when my parents shipped me off to boarding school?''  
Roger nodded, his face all serious now and Freddie knew he wouldn't speak until he was done telling his story. The plane's engine started roaring into life and Freddie jolted at the suddenness of it.

Roger waited politely for him to gather his thoughts again. ''They didn't tell me about it until I was in a car to the airport, thus somewhat ambushing me. They had packed my belongings without telling me, told me to say goodbye to Kash, who stayed with the nanny and I didn't know where I was going. When I saw a plane flying overhead I realized we were going to the airport and that's when they told me I was going off to boarding school, indefinitely. I was too wild and they were relying on the school to teach me how to be a polite young man with proper manners.  
A son well suited for the type of man my father is, you know. I started crying and protesting that I didn't want to go, mom comforted me but my father was silent. He told me I had to stop sulking. That it would be the best time of my life. I would make loads of friends and be happy. A family friend escorted me to India, my parents didn't even get on the plane with me.  
They said goodbye to me at the airport. I remember crying throughout the entire flight. I mostly thought about Kash, who was just a baby at the time and how I wouldn't get to see her grow up, be a big brother to her. I missed most of her childhood and I still resent my father for that. But yeah ever since that unwelcome flight, I've always hated big surprise getaways. And there you have it,''

Roger sighed deep, his forefinger stroking gently over Freddie's wrist. He looked rather grim and compassionate. Just when Freddie wanted to apologize for ruining the holiday spirit, Roger said, ''We're going to Ibiza,''  
Freddie nearly fell off his seat. He had never expected Roger to actually tell him where they would go based on his story. It hadn't been a ruse to get him to spill, it was a true story one that after telling felt a little less heavy, however, he should have known that this would compel Roger to indulge him. He had a massive heart after all and hated it to see Freddie all sad and haunted by the ghosts of his past.

Ibiza was both Freddie and Roger's favourite place in the whole world. They had been there countless times in their early years, with the four of them and there was something about the island that Freddie absolutely adored. A kind of magic.  
Freddie was beaming now, livid with the forethought of going to their island. ''Really? Ibiza!!! Oh my gosh, in that case, I would like to revise my previous statement: I do love this surprise flight!''  
Roger smiled content. ''Yeah, I figured as much,''  
He squeezed Roger's hand, eager to hug him but the plane was picking up speed now, telling them it would depart soon. They couldn't stand up now. So instead, Freddie leaned in the best he could and reached to kiss Roger's cheek. ''Best surprise ever!!! I might actually grow fond of them if they're all this wonderfully pleasant. Thank you, darling. This means the world to me,''

''I'm glad you say that because once we get there I have a few more big surprises lined up for you. All good ones, don't worry. As I said before: I know my audience. You'll love them,''

Freddie didn't doubt it for even one second. He couldn't wait until they got there. Three whole days of peace and solitude at his favourite place in the world. This was going to be heaven.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

_TBC......_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no clue if they ever went to Ibiza but I decided to make it their island. So it's probably not canon but I don't care. I hope you liked it. I know it's not realistic that they kept the location hidden on the airport but who cares? And that they are going away together without any of the entourage tagging along. But again, I don't care haha. I wanted some quality time for just them. So, use your imagination ;-) 
> 
> Also, this kinda goes without saying, but I fabricated the part about Freddie's parents taking him to the airport. I needed a reason for him to not like surprises. In no way am I trying to ditch his parents. Just my imagination again. 
> 
> Any thoughts on the other surprises that Roger has lined up for Freddie? 
> 
> As always, thanks for reading this! I appreciate all the kudos and notes this gets. I never expected this story to be read this much, especially because it's about a friendship and not a ship. But I'm so glad you guys like it.


	5. And everywhere the broken-hearted.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roger and Freddie arrive in Ibiza. 
> 
> Roger has a nice surprise for Freddie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking forever to update this, you guys. I've been struggling with my depression again and I had a lot going on at home. 
> 
> But I'm finally back with a new chapter and there will be loads to come after this one. 
> 
> I hope you will like it.

_Freddie_.

 

 

 

 

''I thought you knew where we were going!''  
''Oi, I'm not the one who's supposed to be reading the bloody map and told me to go left at that intersection am I?''  
''Oh, so now it's my fault? You're driving the fucking car and told me you knew the way,''  
''It's been a _year_ since I've been here, Fred. Give me a fucking break. I'm only human and all of these roads look bloody similar. Now hand me the map. I hate to say this but you're quite useless at this,''  
''That's a tad offensive, dear,''  
''Ordinarily, I would agree with you, were it not for the fact that we nearly drove off a cliff thanks to your poor instructions. Map, now,'' Roger snapped his fingers and Freddie reluctantly handed it over. He felt like a bloody idiot for not being able to read a map. How hard could it be? Quite hard, apparently. He'd always hated maps, somehow he just didn't see it. He didn't speak their language, so to say.

It was a balmy, warm midday in Ibiza and Freddie felt his entire body come alive at the welcome change of scenery. The saltiness of the sea air reminded him of his childhood in Zanzibar. Freddie had always loved all aspects of the ocean with all his heart, it made him feel free and careless. The sounds of seagulls gawking nearby, the gentle rocking of the turquoise water as it eroded back onto the shore. It was one of the many reasons why he loved to create songs about the sea.  
The tranquillity and peace the island embodied were just what he needed.  
During the summer season, it would be overly crowded with youngsters looking to party but the island had many secluded bays and areas where people aiming for solitude and peace could get exactly what they were looking for.  
Now, in September, it was still busy when they landed at the airport but Roger had driven them to a remote spot far from the crowded beaches with thousands of tourists.

Roger had aimed for the flashy red Lamborghini at the car rental but Freddie ( due to Paul's packing ) had brought too many bags for the size of the car's trunk so Roger had begrudgingly settled for a white Jeep. Roger fiercely loved cars ( hence the fabrication of the world's most ridiculous car song ) and travelling in style was important to him so he had given Freddie a stinkeye for denying him the Lambo and thus forcing him into a tediously dated Jeep.  
Freddie didn't care for driving around in cars but he definitely enjoyed letting people taxi him around. He'd taken one driving lesson once but had been immediately done with all the complicated mumbo jumbo, mirrors and buttons and decided to let people drive him. He wasn't very well suited for a driver's license. Besides, real queens didn't drive either, they had neatly dressed, pompous chauffeurs.

Momentarily, Freddie's designated, crisp-looking chauffeur was about to throw a fucking fit. His fag was dangling from his lips and the sunlight was illuminating his hair, making it even more golden. Kissing his locks adoringly. Roger sighed, deflated, sounding awfully aggravated with him as he peered over the map. ''I told you we had to go right at this point, now we have to drive all the way back. Seriously, Fred. It's a bloody map, not actual rocket science, you know?''  
''Well I'm sorry I'm not fucking _perfect_ at this like Bri is, all right? You should have taken him if you wanted a proper navigator, I can't read fucking maps. I don't understand their intricate little details,''  
''Yeah, no shit Columbus,''  
''Isn't that a tad insulting to Columbus?''  
''Not quite, I mean the man sailed for sodding India and found America instead, so clearly he wasn't that good at reading maps either, or perhaps he had a navigator like you,''  
''Aww you're so sweet to me,'' Freddie snarled, rolling his eyes at his best friend.  
''Oh please, you were asking for it,'' Roger quipped. He peered at the map from behind his golden sunglasses, trailing his fingers up and down over the roads and nodded. ''All right, let's get cracking shall we? I know the way,''  
''Well, I sure hope so, darling, because I clearly don't,''  
Roger shrugged, conveying him a bit gentler now. ''You have other qualities, mate,''

Freddie felt his heart warm and winked appreciatively at the blonde. He loved Roger for that. For always voicing his good characteristics to him when he needed to hear them the most. Sure they would pick on each other and argue until everyone around them would lose their tether but Roger would never let Freddie talk badly about himself when he was around.  
Only he was allowed and qualified to tease him mildly with it because Freddie would know it was only a jest.  
But he would rather die than let Freddie-who was already always horribly insecure about himself-believe that there was any truth to his cruel inner voices. The ones that told him he wasn't good enough, that he was ugly when he smiled due to his horrid teeth. That he was a bad son to his father because he was gay.  
That he was a worthless shite for hurting Mary by not being able to give her what she needed. It wasn't easy being Freddie and it was surely even harder being his best mate. Freddie commended Roger for putting up with him through all his personal dramas and temper tantrums.

Freddie had never said it out loud but Roger was the reason that he could find the courage to climb onto the stage every night. Contrary to what his audience believed, Freddie was always incredibly nervous to open a concert. It took everything of him to step onto the stage. To face them.  
Once he had sung the crucial first note, he transformed into an unstoppable performance beast who drew the audience in seamlessly, who could make them fly with him, but getting to that point took all of his bravery every time he left the safety of their dressing room. He would turn to Roger and seeing the fierce determination and warmth in his eyes would calm him.  
Give him that last nudge he needed to ease his trembling body and actually get up on stage and give the show of his life. He owed all of it to Roger. Owed the duration of Queen's success to Roger.  
Without him by his side to nudge him on the stage, he would have never become Freddie Mercury, he would have been stuck at Farrokh Bulsara.

He covered Roger's hand with his own and clenched the slender wrist tightly. ''I never thanked you,''  
Roger turned to him peering at him quizzically from behind his shades. ''For what, Fred?''  
''Everything,''  
''You don't have to say that, not to me,''  
''Yes, I do. I wouldn't have come far without you by my side,''  
''You would have, you-''  
''No, you're mistaken, Rog. I don't want to morph into a sentimental old fart here but I'm going to. I never told you this and you have a right to hear it. You make me feel brave you know like I can do anything. You're never afraid of anything, darling.  
You just dive right into something, head-on. I wish I could do that. I over-analyze everything, I question everything I do and even at night I keep worrying in bed and thus I seldom fall asleep without a nightcap. I'm terrified to get onto the stage each time we have a show.  
Will the audience respond well to me? Will they make poof jokes at my expense, will they mock me or scold me?  
What if I miss a note and ruin the show? I worry constantly. And then I turn around and I see you standing there. All composed, stylish and basking in sheer confidence. It spurs me onto that stage every night. Gives me the strength I need to not fall apart. I wanted to thank you for that. For helping me become more than I ever thought I could be,''

Roger leaned in and embraced him tightly. Freddie didn't have to look at him to notice that he was shedding a tear. ''Thank you for saying that, mate, I appreciate it. Alas, you're only partially right, you know. You're giving me too much credit. You're deluded if you think I'm without fear though. I get scared before a show sometimes. I've just been blessed with an excellent poker face, Fred. When we performed in Rio I was fucking terrified, the crowd was immense and intimidating and we'd never played for that many people before so don't think that I wasn't petrified I'd stuff it up at that moment because I was quite literally shitting my trousers,''  
''You-you were?''  
''Are you joking? Of course, I bloody was. I told you: you give me _far_ too much credit!''  
''That may be so but I still think you deserved a proper thank you, for all the things you did for me, including taking me on this lovely holiday,''  
"Well, you're welcome. Now stop making me feel uncomfortable, all these compliments will make my big head explode,"  
"There she is, the black Queen has stepped out of the darkness to poke into the pile," Freddie teased, shooting Roger a wink.  
"Fuck off, mate,"

Freddie feigned a hurtful look, pouting his lip at Roger. "You're not going to tell me that without me you would have still been Smile? How offensive, darling,"  
"I'm not an enabler as you bloody well know. If you want to be coddled and charmed you should have taken Bri with you. I'm not going to tell you shit I already told you and that you already know. So stop fishing for compliments," Roger chided, pounding his arm lightly but his eyes were smirking.  
When Freddie still kept his pouty face on, Roger caved. Because deep down, when it came to Freddie, he truly was an enabler. But only for him. It was their own little secret. Roger would rather chop his own arm off than admit that but still. "But yeah, fine. We would still be Smile if it weren't for you and your groundbreakingly epic and magical voice. Happy now?"  
Freddie chuckled and leaned in to peck Roger's cheek lightly. "Delighted, love. Can we go now? I'm rather famished. You did hire a personal chef to feed us, did you? Or do we have to live off cereal again like we did when we lived together and Bri was out of town?"  
"I've got everything sorted, Fred. Trust me,"

Freddie heard a choir of crickets chirping nearby and the sound of the calm ocean crashing onto the rocks echoed around them. "Did Bri help you make a list?"  
Roger put his foot down and turned the wheel, making a sharp turn to the left, taking them off the sandy cliff. "No actually, John did,"  
"Huh, that's new,"  
"I think Bri was a tad offended that he couldn't tag along, to be honest. He seemed really disappointed that he had to stay behind, John was too but he still helped out. I don't know what's going on with Brian lately, he's been moping and sulking and he won't talk to me about it, which is never a good sign. Is he talking to you?"  
"Not really. He's not giving me much other than generic band stuff. Nothing personal anyway. Well, he's Bri, you know he can get real cagey like that when he's feeling overly exhausted and when he's a bit blue. He gets trapped inside of his own mind,"  
"Yeah, I guess. Still, I worry. He's sensitive you know, and depression tends to follow him around like a fucking shadow,"  
"I know, he told me. How he had his first depression when he lost his childhood cat Pixie. I get it, I mean I would be horribly depressed too if I lost one of my darling babies. I understand why you're worried, Rog.  
But he's Brian. He's vulnerable, surely, but he's also tough as nails, contradicting as that may be. He's a survivor and he'll always overcome whatever life will throw at him. His sensitivity is also what makes him stronger. What makes him such a lovely human being. You don't have to worry, darling. I'll talk to him when we get home. It's easier for him to speak to me about such things,"

Roger blinked confused. "Why?"  
"Because he sees you as his little brother. And no one wants to look frail in front of their little brothers, they want to appear strong and certain. As a role model, someone they can draw strength from, not someone they should pity and tiptoe around. Well, you know that you're an older brother too, you have Clare.  
Look, he sees me as his older brother. That's the one you go to when you're upset and need to be soothed. So he talks to me. He wants to keep a straight face for you and John. It's nothing personal, love. It's just difficult for him to open up to you about his insecurities,"  
"But you talk to me when you're upset and you're older than I am so that theory sounds like a load of bollocks!"  
"Because our relationship transcends age, Rog, I talk to you because you're the only person on planet Earth who truly understands me. Who knows the real me. Age is just semantics when it comes to us. But it's different for Bri. Don't be so hard on him that he doesn't include you in everything he's enduring. It's only natural my dear. I mean John talks to you doesn't he?"  
Roger's lips twitched up conceding a small smile. "He does,"  
"Because he looks up to you. He trusts you. Don't sulk, Rog. It's not a good colour on you,"  
Roger sighed, defeated by his own uncertainties for once. "I know, it's just...he always used to tell me everything you know? Before we met you. It sort of feels like I've been replaced,"  
"Don't be daft, you're his oldest friend. Bri fucking _loves_ you, I can never replace you, you numpty,"  
"I know, I'm just worried, I guess,"  
"Hey, that's my schtick, love. You should stick to your marvellous drumming, that is what you do best. Worrying is my forte,"

Roger couldn't argue with that and so he didn't. Instead, with no help from Freddie, he finally found the villa he had reserved. It was massive, three stories, bright coral coloured and it had a brown roof and a pool in the garden. It reminded Freddie a bit of his parent's house in Zanzibar and he was half-convinced that Roger knew that and chose it for that exact reason. "Wow, you truly outdid yourself, darling. It's positively gorgeous! I love it,"  
"Thanks! We also have a tennis court in the back garden and table tennis. Aaaaand....an ocean view from every room,"  
"It's brilliant, Rog. You did well. I can't wait to try that pool, I'm hot as fuck,"  
"Iewww not in a rancid way, I hope," Roger winked as he parked the car and stepped out elegantly. He fished their suitcases from the trunk and lead Freddie to the mansion.

When Freddie strolled inside his eyes widened and he felt his jaw falter.  
The house was breathtakingly beautiful. Decorated exactly how he would do it if it was his own house. A huge Marilyn Monroe painting hung above a fireplace, there were bright colours everywhere and long navy lounge sofas that Freddie loved so much. There was even an outrageous Zebra rug draped to the floor.   
Everything breathed pure Freddie. The numerous little boxes that were decorating the crystal end tables were the finishing touch. Freddie loved collecting tiny boxes in all varieties. He would place his jewellery in them, his make-up or other cute trinkets.

After both of them had gone to the toilet Roger decided to give him a tour. "Follow me," he ordered, taking his arm and leading Freddie into the conservatory because this was Roger and he had a thing for conservatories and lazy armchairs. "The desk," Roger pointed, hinting that there was something there that Freddie had to see. Freddie hovered over it and saw a large black book lying on the glass surface.  
He picked it up and opened it.  
It was a stamp collection. A massive one. With stamps that he had never even seen in his life. Stamps from countries he'd never been. It was too much. Too good to be true. Freddie's voice caught in the back of his throat, restricting his ability to utter full sentences. "How?"  
Roger leant over his shoulder, clasping his hand to his forearm. "I made it, mate. I started creating it when we met because I know you're a collector. I had to pull some serious strings for many of them you know, others I brought from the countries we visited on our tours.  
I've been working at it for ages and now it's finally full and somewhat complete.  
Well for now anyway, there will likely be a second volume considering they're always making more stamps for me to gather. I put little notes under them, explaining where they came from and the creation date and all that. It's my birthday gift to you, I hope you like it," Roger sounded nearly insecure and shuffled his feet like a toddler would when he had given his father a drawing.

"Like it?" Freddie huffed, embracing Roger totally out of the blue and constricting him so tight that he started to protest. "Are you fucking joking? This is the best gift I've ever had in my life. I _love_ it, Rog. It's brilliant, it's beautiful, it's much more than I ever expected. Wow, I can't believe you did this. And that you managed to hide it from me all this time. Since we met? You've been collecting them since me fucking met? Truly?"  
Roger nodded solemnly, brushing an affectionate hand through Freddie's raven hair. "Since we met, mate. So I've been saving them for nearly ten years now. I even scrounged some at the Kensington Market stalls when I took a break.  
You told me you loved them so I wanted to create my own book so that I could give it to you on your birthday one day. I know it's not your birthday yet but that only adds to the surprise I guess. Speaking off surprises, I have many more gifts in store for you.  
But I'm not going to tell you just yet. I rather keep you guessing for now. And I feel that this collection should earn me at least a day before I reveal the next one,"  
"Love, I could go forever without presents because of this book. You positively spoiled me, Roger. How can I ever give you a birthday gift next year that can rival this one?"  
"Oh you probably can't but I'm sure you'll figure something out. I'm expecting something massive now," Roger teased, nudging Freddie's side and tickling him mildly, making him squirm. He was always so bloody sensitive in his sides and Roger loved tormenting him with it.

Freddie was a bit teary through his giggles. He couldn't believe Roger had done this for him. It was too much.  
After all the drama they had gone through for the past years revolving Paul, it felt almost inappropriate to accept this gift. He hadn't truly been on Roger's side as he should have and still, he was offering him irreplaceable, hand made gifts. Freddie suddenly felt like he didn't deserve to accept the collection. Succumbed to guilt and grief he nudged the book to the side, shaking his head dismissively. "I can't accept this,"  
Roger flinched as if he was bitten by a beloved pet. "What the hell are you talking about?"  
"I don't deserve this. Not after all the-he who must not be named-drama. I wasn't on your side like I should have been, Rog. And now you give me this, it's too much. I can't take this and pretend like I haven't hurt your feelings and-"  
Roger leaned in and covered his mouth with his balmy hand. "Fred, stop. We vowed we wouldn't speak about him on this trip, didn't we? So let's not bring him up. I don't want to dwell on shit from the past. We're going to have fun and not speak of mistakes we made, decisions we wish we could take back. What's done is done, you know? Like the Beatles said: Let it be.  
And you are on my side, deep down I know you are. Like I will always be on yours too. I won't let anyone come between us, mate. Not even you. As I said multiple times: you're fucking stuck with me. Until the end. I'm not leaving you, ever. So quit trying to push me away because you're afraid I'm going to abandon you. I'm not. You're accepting this gift otherwise I'm throwing it in the fucking bin. Your choice,"

Freddie shook his head furiously and Roger retreated his hand, allowing him to speak. "Don't you dare. I love this book,"  
"So stop griping and fucking accept it and be happy with it. I've put countless hours of work into that sodding thing. Just say: _"Thank you, Roger,"_ so we can unpack our bags and go for a quick swim and a shower. And some food, because I don't know about you, but I'm bloody starving for a good tortilla,"  
Freddie felt his heart swell up in his chest and kissed Roger's lightly sweaty forehead. "Thank you, darling,"  
"You're welcome, let's get cracking shall we?"

They dug into their suitcases and grabbed their swim shorts. Roger shoved him into the pool without warning, because some things never changed. He then jumped in after Freddie, who took revenge on him by nudging him underwater for a split second. Not too long, he didn't want Roger to feel like he was drowning. He knew it was a childhood phobia that had plagued Roger for ages. 

Roger climbed on the red airbed and basked in the sun for a bit, closing his eyes happily. Freddie somewhat wanted to get back at him by swimming underneath it and shoving Roger off it but he looked so peaceful and beautiful, lying there like a wonderful model that Freddie didn't find the heart to do it.  
And right on cue, as if he'd read his mind again Roger said, "Aren't going to shove me off it? How sweet of you, I guess I should give you presents more often,"  
"Oh, why don't you suck my fucking dick, _Blondie_ ,"  
Roger scoffed and sniggered. "Pfff bitch, you wish,"  
"Not really,"  
"Keep telling yourself that, _darling_ ," Roger smirked, triumphantly. Freddie promptly did fling Roger off his airbed at that little sneer. Roger took revenge by grabbing Freddie's foot and dragging him under. Freddie felt the chlorine hitting his eyes but ignored it. He chased Roger out of the pool and tackled him down into the grass, pinning him firmly in his grasp. "Do you give up?"  
Roger squirmed around, desperately trying to escape but to no avail. Freddie had always been physically stronger than he was. Their bare chests were pressed together firmly and Freddie felt Roger's breaths tickling his cheeks. Roger laughed, a haughty Cheshire smirk spreading over his stunning face. "Never," he winked cheekily as he shoved Freddie off of him before fleeing into the villa, with Freddie following close behind.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

_TBC....._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh dear, I really didn't feel good about the ending of the first version so I cut it off. It just felt wrong to create romantic tension between them. But it's so easy to fall back into the romantic vibe for me because I always write romantic stories. Sorry guys. I hope you're happier with this ending. I know I am. 
> 
> How did you like the stamp collection Roger made for Freddie? I read somewhere that Freddie collected stamps so I couldn't resist. Also, he loved little boxes.  
> I'm trying to do my research the best I can but always feel free to point out mistakes I made regarding his personality. 
> 
> Let me know what you think guys. Thanks for reading! <3

**Author's Note:**

> Well? I hope it was okay. I won't ship them romantically in this story ( of course this can be read as such if you like it). So no romance between them, just a set of bound soulmates for life that need each other. 
> 
> I hope I portrayed them right. Please bear in mind that I tend to change my chapters after I write them, so you might wanna read this again later. Also, I'm not an English native speaker. Unfortunately.  
> I would love to hear your thoughts! <333


End file.
